


Hey Moon, We're As Mad As Rabits

by Natileroxs



Series: Golden Days [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Podfic Welcome, Post-Split, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:15:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natileroxs/pseuds/Natileroxs
Summary: It’s just a nap, nothing dangerous.What could go wrong?(Apparently, a lot)





	Hey Moon, We're As Mad As Rabits

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is the real fic, the other one is just setting stuff up. There will be more fics that follow this up, but for now, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Beta'd by Blake18 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blake18

From the lyrics to the mix of instruments, Ryan sees Pretty. Odd as quite an ambitious album. Well, he did. With the minimal backlash and the sold out shows, he’s pretty sure he can count the thing as another success in their book. Still, the strings of doubt sit in his mind that all of this could fall apart in one second, and the worry continues to haunt him as the tour picks up steam. 

It’s warm, the day it happens, and so he finds his long-sleeve flower-patterned shirt way too hot to stay outside for too long, even after rolling both sleeves up. Brendon, Jon, and Spencer stay outside, basking in the heat, but he stays in the van, admiring the sun from the safety of the shade. It’s quiet and he’s calm, yet tired enough that he decides to lay down and take a nap. They didn’t have anything to do until later after all. 

_ It’s just a nap, nothing dangerous.  _

_ What could go wrong? _

* * *

Apparently, a lot. Because he awakes to the icy cold. Shivering, he wraps his arms around himself and wonders whether one of the guys turned the air conditioning on or something because it is freezing. He blinks his eyes open to a twilight sky, the sun pretty much gone, leaving dark purples and blues to occupy its place. The slight glow highlights the ground, the soft, wet substance underneath him. Snow. 

Confusion hits him first, quickly followed by panic. He stumbles to his feet, still somewhat groggy from sleeping for what feels like 6 months. Nothing looks familiar, not even close, but all he focuses on is a house not too far from him, lights off, but right now it looks like the most inviting thing he’s ever seen. 

He stumbles through the snow, tripping up a few times on the slippery surface, hair and clothes dripping as he’s absolutely drenched, but he finally manages to make it to the door. It’s, oddly enough, unlocked, so he has no problem getting inside. He shivers a little more as sudden warmth envelops him, and he navigates the house in the dark, bumping into things here and there. He finds a room, and then a closet, and his delirious mind decides it’s the best place to go. 

So curls up in the small space and closes his eyes for a second. 

* * *

Brendon doesn’t like how quiet it is when the three of them return to the bus. But all he can do is shoot a look at Spencer and go inside. 

It’s messy, as it always is, and he has to watch where he’s placing his feet as he walks the entire length of the bus, looking for their bandmate. 

“Ryan?” Spencer calls out, but there’s no answer. There’s no one in the bunks, no one out the front and not a single person in sight. Brendon pulls himself up to peek up at Ryan’s bunk, finding that he’d left papers strewn about, his phone tucked into the sheets. He again shoots a look at Spencer. 

“He’s gone. He left his phone here and took off.” The other two are just as confused as Brendon is, so Jon ducks out the door, calling out for Ryan. Because honestly, how far would he have gone. Spencer is visibly panicked and Brendon tries to dim his own anxieties to a dull unsettled feeling. 

They sit down, Brendon putting a shaky hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “He’s fine, Spence. He probably just wandered off.”

“Yeah…”

Unfortunately, Jon comes back with no more clue as to where Ryan is then when he’d left. So, all three of them go looking, and then they get more and more people involved, first bystanders and then nearby law enforcement. 

They take a break after four hours and Brendon places his arms delicately around Spencer’s frame. Dusk has come and gone and now they’re sitting on the steps out front of the venue they are supposed to be playing. Fans whine about the show being cancelled but when it is suggested they announce the reason why, all three band members shoot the idea down, both aware it would cause a panic, and also because they don’t want to quite acknowledge it either. 

They sit for an hour in silence and then pick up from where they had left. Yet, by midnight, they haven’t found anything.

And, while he has no evidence, Brendon has the awful feeling that they won’t find anything connecting to Ryan for a long time to come. 

* * *

“So, why don’t you play it anymore?”

“Play what?”

“Northern Downpour. I know many people enjoy that son-”

“I... “ Brendon cuts himself off and tries again. “It… it brings back too many memories.”

The interviewer goes quiet. And then she perks up and changes the subject, which he’s thankful for. 

It’s not that he doesn’t like the song. No, in fact, it’s the opposite. He absolutely loves the song with all his heart. But it’s too painful. Because Ryan wrote it, Ryan used to sing it with him. 

Thinking of his old friend is hard. His friend that had just disappeared into thin air. That’s why he can’t sing it, he can’t sing it without bursting into tears. Because he’s lonely, and he’s sad, and he misses his best friend with all his heart. 

Jon slides his way out of their lives not long after Ryan is declared as a cold case. Brendon and Spencer keep playing, for their fans, for the many people supporting them, and for Ryan, for his memory. Needing a bass player, they meet Dallon, who, while could never replace Ryan, doesn’t try to. Dallon never pretends he was there from the start, never tries to take over. 

When Spencer begins to struggle with the stress alongside the constant reminders that Ryan is gone, he turns into something else. Brendon pushes him to get better, and in doing that, makes him take a break from the band. Brendon then holds the whole thing up by himself, placing Dallon back down to touring member. He stops being able to accept different ideas, starts buckling under the strain of the whole thing. 

He suspects Dallon had been up to something for a while before the man confesses that, yes, he is working on a solo thing and, yes, he is likely going to peace out from the band sooner or later. He then goes on to reassure Brendon that isn’t his fault, that it is more that they have different ideas, different thoughts. He says that he’ll always come back if Brendon needs him, always be there if Brendon wants him to be. 

Dallon hesitantly introduces his new bandmate as ex-falling in reverse drummer Ryan Seaman, a blue-haired man that is kind and they make fast friends, talking about everything from music to past experiences that have shaped them. At first, he struggles to call the man by his first name until Dallon suggests the shortening Rys, which makes Seaman smile and shake his head. 

Spencer, recovering and looking much healthier than before, visits them often and the four of them have mini sleepovers in Brendon’s too big house, just watching movies and talking about empty topics. As Brendon works on Pray For The Wicked, they are there, supporting him. When he finishes it, they cheer him on.

It’s late when he returns home, snow dusting his shoes and jacket as he enters. The house is warm, just as he’d planned, and so he slips his shoes off and hangs up his jacket, making his way down the hall and sighing. An exhausting day making it so that all he wants to do is pass out on his bed and sleep for two months. 

Unfortunately, he can’t do that. Because as he gets closer to his room, he sees wet footprints come from the back door. He is immediately alert and on guard. He cautiously goes into his room, following the footprints that lead to his closet. The door is shut, which he specifically remembers leaving open, and there are almost silent whimpers coming from inside. 

He pauses, thinking. What could have gotten inside? The footprints are human, so maybe a cold, homeless kid? Or, someone waiting to jump him. Even back when they were first starting out, they had to always watch their backs in case one of their fans tried to grab them. Especially him and Ryan. 

And he’s just made himself sad again. 

He slowly, so slowly, turns the door handle, hearing a yelp and soft shivering sound. A shuffle, as if someone’s moving closer to the wall, further away from him, and his worries about a stalker ebb away slightly. He gets the closet open carefully and looks down to see a man, no, boy, who couldn’t be any older than his very early twenties, curled in on himself and shivering. It’s warm, but the boy is soaking wet as if he’s been lying in the snow. 

Brendon kneels down, unsure of what exactly he’s doing, and clears his throat, making the boy look up. 

And… no… it can’t be. 

But it is, it’s Ryan, just as he was when he disappeared. Brendon can’t help but stare and Ryan stares back with a slightly confused look on his face. 

“Brendon?” 

Brendon’s breath catches in his throat. Because it’s the same voice, same face, same energy as before. Except he’s shaking from the cold and his expression is a mix of confusion, relief, and fear. Brendon’s body works on autopilot, pulling the smaller boy out of the closet and instead placing him on the bed, slipping out of the room to return with towels and a few blankets. He wraps them around Ryan, drawing in shallow breaths as he once more just stares at his ex-bandmate. 

“Brendon I… what’s going on?” Ryan says in a somewhat hysterical way, scared out of his mind. “You look… where are we?”

“Ryan…” He sighs, unable to stay calm. “I’ll… you stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

He can feel Ryan’s eyes follow him out the door. 

* * *

Brendon’s different, that’s the first thing Ryan notices. He’s older, more mature. When Brendon leaves, he desperately wants to reach out for him, but that would involve dislodging himself from the cocoon of blankets he’s wrapped up in. So instead, he sits and listens as Brendon talks on the phone in the hall, not even four feet away.

“Spence, you need to get over here.”

Ryan’s heart speeds up when he hears that name. But again, it doesn’t make sense, why isn’t Spencer here, in the same house as Brendon. None of it makes sense. 

Why does Brendon look older, why did he look like he saw a ghost when he laid eyes on Ryan? Why does he live in this big house, why is it snowing when it was the middle of summer? Why won’t Brendon tell him anything?

“It’s about Ryan.” 

Spencer’s voice is faint through the phone but it’s deeper.  **“What?”**

“Seriously, get over here. Please.” Brendon pleads. 

**“Okay, I’m coming, I promise, I’m coming.”** Spencer sounds upset. Or maybe that’s not the right word for it. Sort of, panicked maybe?

The call ends and Brendon enters the room again, gazing down at Ryan with a sad expression. 

“What’s going on Brendon?” Ryan whispers. In response, Brendon sits next to him and pulls him into a tight hug that he can feel through the layers. 

“Just… Spence will explain everything when he gets here. You should… you should change out of those wet clothes.” 

Why won’t he stop staring at him like it’s impossible for Ryan to exist? And why does he look so damn different but still the same? 

“Uh… okay?” Brendon pulls out some boxers, track pants, and an ill-fitting t-shirt and shows him to the bathroom, where he unravels blanket after blanket and leaves him shivering in an unfamiliar bathroom in a house that feels like it’s owned by a stranger. Looking at himself in the mirror, he’s surprised. A few minutes ago he was lying in the familiar comfort of the bus, with the sun casting a nice glow through the open window. But now, it’s pitch black and his clothes stick to his body. His hair sits at a bunch of different angles, making him look like he’s just woken up from the roughest sleep imaginable, and the bags under his eyes make his cheeks look hollow.

He strips, rubs his arms up and down to try warming them up, and then hops in the shower. He almost moans in pleasure as the hot stream of water hits his skin. It’s been weeks, maybe months, since he’s had this good of a shower. Once finished, he dries himself, dresses himself in Brendon’s clothes, and steps out of the steamy bathroom and into Brendon’s embrace. 

To avoid looking at Brendon’s weird, aged up face, he instead checks out what he’s wearing. He’s gotten changed as well, into an outfit similar to the one Ryan’s wearing. It’s a complete one-eighty from the suit and tie get up from before. 

The doorbell rings and Brendon orders him to go hide in his room. Ryan reluctantly does. He listens through the door as he hears footsteps. Then he clearly hears Spencer’s voice, which is definitely deeper than before. 

“So what is this about Brendon?” The footsteps stop in front of the door and Ryan holds his breath for a second before the footsteps walk a little left and he can hear Brendon’s voice. 

“Well-”

“You mentioned Ryan, Brendon.” Spencer cuts Brendon off, sounding upset and slightly angry, and Ryan can’t help but feel guilty because they’re talking about him, though why he’s not quite sure. He’s not quite sure of anything right now. Honestly, it could all just be a dream. “So get on with it.”

The door handle shifts, Ryan shuffles back, and Brendon speaks. “Just, uh…” 

With no more warning, the door swings open and it’s Spencer, standing there. He’s older too, and he looks absolutely stunned, barely blinking as he stares. 

“Spencer?” Is the only thing he can get out, but it’s enough to pull Spencer out of his paralyzed state, because he immediately hugs him, trembling ever so slightly, whispering something Ryan can’t make out even though it’s pretty much ringing in his ear. 

“How are you… here?” 

He’s unsure of how to answer that question. Brendon leads them both to the living room. Ryan cautiously sits but the other two stare down at him. 

“What’s going on? I don’t understand?”

Spencer kneels down in front of him, keeping his eyes locked on Ryan. “You don’t understand?”

“No, I don’t.” He finds confidence building in his voice. “Where are we? Why do you both look so much older? I saw you like just a few hours ago and you were my age. Now you guys look like you’re in your thirties.”

Spencer blinks at him slowly before he glances up at Brendon. 

“What?”

He isn’t sure how to answer that either. Luckily he doesn’t have to since Brendon steps in. 

“You do know what year it is, right?” 

“Yes…” He’s uneasy now, shifting in his seat. “Why?”

Brendon comes and sits next to him. Spencer stands, turns, and situates himself on the other side of Ryan. “Just… humour us. Tell us what year it is.” If he didn’t know Brendon so well, he wouldn’t pick up on the pleading tone in his voice. But he knows Brendon like the back of his hand so he answers the question as seriously as possible. 

“2009?” 

He can hear Spencer’s sharp intake of breath and Brendon lets out a shaky sigh. “Uh…” They share a look over Ryan’s head. 

“It’s not…” 

Ryan’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“It’s 2019…” 

It’s Ryan’s turn to blink slowly. “What? No, it’s not.” He then studies his friends' faces thoroughly, taking in their aged features, their weary expressions, their tired eyes. They both look at him like he shouldn’t be in front of them, yet they’re so happy he is. 

The cogs are turning in his head and he gulps, meeting Brendon’s gaze again. “It… it can’t be…” His heart speeds up, he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. Before he knows it, he’s hyperventilating. He leans over and lets his head hang between his legs. Brendon rubs his back and looks up at Spencer. Out of the corner of his ear, Ryan can hear his friends talk in hushed tones. 

“We really need to call his mom…”

“And Jon. Probably Pete as well.”

He feels the weight shift on his left side and he thinks it’s Spencer. Footsteps get softer and softer as Spencer walks away. 

* * *

“Hi, uh…”

**“Spencer. It’s been a while.”** Ryan’s mother answers and Spencer is uneasy. He’s not sure how to do this. How to tell her without having her faint over the phone.  **“Is there something you wish to say or are you just calling to say hello at 2 in the morning?”**

“Well, you see, it’s about Ryan.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath and he takes a deep breath himself. 

**“What about Ryan?”**

“We… Brendon and I found something. You know, about him and his disappearance…”

**“New evidence?”**

“Something like that… Just, maybe you should come over. Brendon called me over here about an hour ago.” He’s tapping his foot nervously when he hears someone come up behind him. At first, he thinks it’s Brendon, but when he turns it’s actually Ryan, standing there awkwardly with his hands hanging by his sides. 

**“Uh,”** She hesitates. Finally, she tells him,  **“Sorry. I-I can’t,”** and hangs up and Spencer runs his hand through his hair once before he glances down at Ryan again, who is blinking back tears. 

“That was my mom, wasn’t it?” He whispers and Spencer places the phone on the counter and leans down slightly to wrap his arms around Ryan. He’s so much smaller than Spencer remembers, but maybe that’s just because the age difference is just so vast now. It’s weird to think of Ryan as younger than him now. He’d always been older. 

Ryan softly cries into Spencer’s sweater and ends up falling into some sort of half-sleep, swaying on his feet. Brendon carries Ryan down the hall and into his room. Spencer picks up the phone again. 

“Hey, Pete. There’s something you should know.” 

* * *

Pete is tired. So tired. But, since he’s both in L.A, and not too far away, he goes straight to Brendon’s house as soon as he gets the call. Because Spencer mentioned something about Ryan, and when Ryan is mentioned it’s not good. 

_ “It’s about Ryan.” _ Is all Spencer had said. If that means that Brendon had a massive breakdown or if they’d found groundbreaking evidence about the poor kid’s whereabouts, he doesn’t know. All he does know is that it isn’t good.

The door is unlocked, but he knocks anyway and Brendon answers the door, looking dishevelled yet not as if he’s been crying, so that’s a plus. He can hear Spencer speaking quietly on the phone in the kitchen, but other than that the house is silent. 

After locking the door behind them, Brendon takes him into the kitchen where the only light source is coming from. He then whispers something to Spencer and walks back down the dark hall. Spencer hangs up quickly before turning to face Pete, who has his arms crossed. 

“So, what am I doing here so early in the morning?”

Spencer breathes in and out a few times before speaking. “We found... Ryan.” Pete can’t help his sharp intake of oxygen and he stares Spencer down. 

“Really?”

“I called his mom, but she hung up on me. I also called Jon, but he didn’t answer so I left a message saying it was urgent.” Spencer runs his fingers through his messy hair, trying in vain to have it sit down properly. “I was just about to call the office, make sure they know that Brendon isn’t able to make it to that meeting or interview and that they’ll have to reschedule.” 

“How long have you been here, Spencer?”

“About an hour maybe, not too long. Brendon called me as soon as…”

Pete sighs, stands up straighter, and looks right at the younger man. “So… where did they find Ryan? And who found him, and how do they know it’s him. It’s been almost ten years, there’d be nothing recognisable about him anymore.” He hates the way it comes out, but he can’t help it. It’s early, he’s tired, and the news that his old best friend’s body has been found, in whatever condition it is in, is just the icing on the cake. 

“Well…” Spencer bites his lip and glances down the hallway Brendon had gone down. He can hear muted sounds coming from there, and it sounds like someone’s crying. He prepares himself to face a sobbing Brendon. Spencer leads him down and ducks his head in the room first. All Pete can hear is sniffling and Spencer’s low voice. 

“Spence?”

Spencer comes back out and gestures inward. Pete responds by crossing his arms and walking inside. What meets him is something he doesn’t expect. Brendon isn’t the one crying, instead, comforting the much younger boy who sits in Brendon’s bed, in Brendon’s clothes, and still has tears in his eyes. 

The boy looks up at him and it can’t be… It’s Ryan Ross. Just as he was the last time he saw him, young and youthful. He directs his gaze at Brendon, who sighs and stands up from where he was sitting on the bed, and nods for Pete to come over. 

“Pete?” Ryan’s voice terrifies him because it’s the same. The exact same. He’s speechless. 

“We should sleep, talk in the morning,” Brendon whispers and gets Ryan to lie down, pulling the covers up over him. They leave Ryan alone in Brendon’s bedroom and silently walk to the guest rooms, where Pete almost misses the bed and when his head hits the pillow, he’s already out like a light. 

* * *

Brendon wakes up and it feels like everything was a dream, until he sees Spencer sleeping on the other side of the bed. He looks absolutely exhausted and Brendon feels guilty about that, so he gets up and prepares breakfast for his three currently passed out guests. 

Pete stumbles into the kitchen first, making himself a coffee as quickly as possible. Spencer drags himself out of bed next, rubbing his eyes as he joins Pete with his own cup. Finally, Ryan enters the kitchen and awkwardly stands in the doorway. Pete does a double-take, rubs his eyes and groans.

“Shit, that wasn’t some sick fever dream.” 

Brendon sighs and dishes out breakfast - toast and some reasonably well-cooked eggs - on to plates, waiting as his two older guests take theirs before he hands Ryan a plate and directs him to the table. They eat in complete silence until Spencer takes a sip of his coffee and addresses everyone. 

“So, what do we do?” He asks and Ryan pauses, listening attentively. 

“His mom isn’t coming, that’s for sure. Jon will hopefully call back if he’s not being an ass, I’ll call Dallon and Rys, maybe they’ll be able to guess what’s going on? I think Dallon mentioned something about Rys knowing some freaky shit, like witchcraft or I don’t know…” Brendon lets out, barely catching a breath between the two sentences. 

“Rys? Dallon? And… and what happened to Jon?” Ryan pipes up, sitting up properly. 

“Uh…” Brendon shoots a look at Spencer and the guy holds his hands up in surrender for a second before continuing. “After you… left, we spent ages looking for you. Eventually, people gave up. We couldn’t find any trace of you.”

Brendon can see Ryan file that away for later, he’s always been good at reading the kid. He jumps in when Spencer trails off. “Jon left, Ryan. He left because he couldn’t handle it anymore, being in the band without you, without a part of our family.” 

“Would it be better to wait to explain this?” Pete questions after he notices Ryan trembling in his seat. Brendon shakes his head, they can’t put this off or they’ll never get around to it and it’ll be worse. 

“What happened next?” Ryan whispers in a small voice. 

“Me and Spencer continued to make music, we thought that’s what you’d want us to do.” 

“We got a bass player in the form of Dallon Weekes, who was originally touring, then joined us as a full-time member. You’ll love him.” Spencer continues for Brendon. “But… things kinda spiralled out of control, I left to sort out some issues, Dallon left to do his own thing with this guy called Ryan Seaman, and Brendon’s the only official member left.” 

Ryan is left stunned. “You… left?”

Brendon stands and walks over to the younger boy, placing his hand on his shoulder. “It’s… it’s complicated and we’ll talk about it later. One thing at a time.” 

Almost on cue, there's a knock on the front door. Spencer sighs and strides down the hall to answer it, Brendon listens as he talks. 

“Hello, Jon.” He hums and Brendon watches Ryan closely. 

“What did you call me for?” It’s Jon and he doesn’t sound mad, not even annoyed. He just sounds worried, which Brendon is thankful for, he’s glad they don’t have to explain this whole thing to a pissed off Jon. 

“It’s about Ryan.” 

Ryan jolts involuntary in his chair and Brendon squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. He then helps Ryan up and they hang back as Pete joins Spencer at the door. 

“Hey Jon, good to see you.” 

“Shit,” Brendon hears Jon hiss. “It’s that bad?”

“Yeah.” Spencer gestures inside and Jon takes it as an invitation to come in. Brendon pulls Ryan behind him, not quite prepared for what Jon’s reaction will be. Spencer immediately realises his mistake when he catches a glimpse of Ryan hiding behind Brendon. 

Jon walks straight past them, pauses, and turns back around with wide eyes. Brendon moves away and Ryan is fully exposed to Jon’s eyes. He holds up a finger and points, shaking his head. 

“What the hell?”

Ryan stares at him and Jon goes over to him slowly, placing both his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. 

“You haven’t changed at all.” 

“Freaky, huh?” Pete adds. Spencer motions down the hall.

“Come on, I need to call Dallon, you guys need to chill until we can figure this out,” he says. 

* * *

Dallon tries, really honest to god tries not to look at his mobile. Social media has been going crazy ever since he woke up to the rumour that someone had  _ possibly _ found Ryan Ross. What bullshit. But curiosity itches at him so much that he can't help but check and what he finds is somewhat surprising. Brendon had apparently cancelled the interview he had today, fucking  _ Jon Walker _ had been spotted on his way to the lead singer’s house, Pete Wentz hadn’t shown up to the meeting he was supposed to be attending that morning. 

“Ryan!” He calls out to his best friend and the blue-haired man emerges from the basement in somewhat of a panic in response to Dallon’s tone. He looks relieved when he finds him in no danger. “Look at this.” 

As Ry’s eyes flicker from one side of the screen to the other, his frown deepens. 

They both jump when the phone suddenly goes off. 

“Hello?” Dallon says slowly and the duo nervously wait for a response. 

**“Hey, Dal.”** It’s Spencer, from Brendon’s phone he realises. 

“So the rumours are true.”

**“Yeah, they are. In a way. Just…”** Spencer hesitates and Dallon shoots Ry a look.  **“Is Rys there?”**

“Yes,” Rys speaks up. 

**“Good, you know about all this weird witchcraft shit, right?”**

It’s Rys’ turn to shoot Dallon a look. 

“I do.” 

**“Thank god, you might be able to help us out. Could you both come over, please.”** Spencer whispers. 

Dallon straightens his back and Ry takes the phone. “Of course.”

The line goes dead. 

“I guess I’ll have to grab my stuff then?”

“Yeah, probably.”

* * *

Ryan Seaman and Dallon Weekes are not at all like what Ryan was expecting. Dallon is tall, absurdly tall, and he makes Brendon look miniature. Rys, as everyone calls him, isn’t nearly as tall, but makes up for his friend’s oddness with his bright blue hair. They both stare at him, equally as stunned as all his friends were. Then Rys sighs and they both look to Brendon to explain. 

“That’s Ryan Ross.” Rys starts. 

“Who’s been missing for almost ten years.” Dallon continues.

“Sitting in your living room.” Rys finishes. 

“Yes,” Brendon huffs and sets himself down beside Ryan. “See why we needed your help.”

Ryan purses his lips at this, furrowing his brow. What does he mean? “Huh?”

Dallon points at Brendon. “You better be grateful I married a witch.” 

“It’s warlock but fine.” Rys sits on the other side of Ryan while he attempts to comprehend what the guy had said. But the blue-haired man has already taken hold of his chin and is studying his face carefully. He suddenly pulls back. 

“What happened, from your perspective.”

Ryan realises with a start that he’s being talked to. He takes a minute to think and sorts everything into a neat little pile. “It was too hot outside in the sun so I went in the bus, fell asleep, woke up in the snow, at... maybe midnight? I was in the backyard, saw the house and that the door was unlocked, walked down the hall and fell back asleep shivering in his closet. Woke up to someone walking down the hall and guess who.”

Brendon shakes his head a little, a small smile inching up his cheeks. 

“Why did you go into the closet?” Dallon asks. 

Ryan honestly has no answer for this. “I don’t know. I just felt like it was where I was supposed to be.” 

Spencer interjects himself into the conversation. “So… that’s it? That’s all you know? Nothing else happened?”

“Nothing.”

Rys takes Ryan’s hands and inspects them, shaking his head and dropping them for only a second before he grasps one and runs his fingers along Ryan’s forearm, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, that’s a nasty curse you’ve got there, kid.” 

“Curse?” Jon questions. Ryan’s glad he’s not the only one confused. 

“Must be a few generations old, you’re lucky this is all that’s happened to you so far.” 

“Can you do anything?” Dallon asks. 

  
“Maybe. Not much I can do about his little time jump, but I can do my best to prevent further harm.” Rys digs through his pockets and then swears. “Shit, I don’t have them. Must’ve run out.”

“Run out of what?” Brendon asks. 

“I had some ageing potion here somewhere, so you can make it more believable that you just found him with amnesia, and some sage to help with the curse. But they’re gone.” He pulls out his phone. 

“What are you doing?” Rys blinks at Jon’s question. 

“What does it look like? I’m calling my dealer. He’ll get this shit sorted. Wish I didn’t have to bring him into this but I guess I have to.”

Pete breathes softly. And then his phone starts ringing and he excuses himself to the other side of the room, where Ryan can hear him speak in hushed tones. 

“Yeah, I’m at Brendon’s, Patrick... No, no, he’s fine... It’s stuff to do with Ryan... No, I know… It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve got this... No, you don’t need to… dammit Patrick!” He clenches his fists. 

Beside him, Rys’  _ “dealer” _ has picked up. 

“I need your help.”

**“Well… this can’t be good.”** The voice sounds familiar. But Ryan can’t place it. 

He begins to drown out all the sounds, covering his ears. Next thing, Brendon’s pulling him up and out of the chaos. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He asks, ever so softly. 

Ryan shakes his head. They head down the hall, around a corner, and into a room he recognises as some sort of music room. His guitar is hanging proudly in the middle, and Ryan feels himself tear up a little. And as soon as the tears come, he can’t stop them. Brendon hugs him again. 

“You kept it.”

“Of course we did.” Brendon pats him on the back. They sit, the ground soft underneath them. It’s quiet for a while before Brendon looks at him. 

  
“Do you want to hear some of Panic!’s new music?” 

Ryan frowns but nods. “Sure. Okay.” 

He pops in a cd, skips a track, and then a guitar riff and Brendon’s voice start off what he can already tell is single material. 

_ “Who are these people? _

_ I just woke up in my underwear, _

_ No liquor left on the shelf, _

_ I should probably introduce myself.” _

The further they progress through the song, the wider Ryan’s smile gets. He finds himself laughing at the silly lyrics, and Brendon joins him, chuckling. 

_ “I lost a bet to a guy in a Chiffon skirt, _

_ But I make these high heels work, _

_ I told you time and time again, _

_ I'm not as think as you drunk I am.” _

The song sweeps off to a finish and Ryan can’t stop himself from crying because he’s just so  _ proud _ . So proud that Brendon could do this, all by himself. That he could keep going, keep pushing. 

* * *

When Rys says  _ dealer _ Brendon does not expect Mikey Way to walk through his door with a backpack full of magic shit. Ryan looks absolutely stunned and Brendon tries to think back to what exactly was happening with the Way brothers back in 2009. 

Then he has a thought. Or, a few. 

My Chemical Romance was still together back then. Fall Out Boy was on its last legs. He might have to explain what happened later. 

Spencer and Pete stare, wide-eyed, as Mikey hands over bottles and little fabric bags to Ryan Seaman. Mikey then turns around and almost drops what he’s holding when he spots Ryan Ross. He takes a moment to compose himself and shakes his head. 

“Well, fuck, that’s why you needed this shit.” 

This sets the room off into a frenzy. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Since when have you been involved in this shit?”

“Does Gerard know about this?”

Mikey holds his hands up in surrender and Rys takes what he needs from the collection of oddities that have been spread out on the floor, taking them out of the room and into the kitchen. 

“He does, and I’ve been doing this since I was a kid.” He says. “Anyway, it’s great to see you, Ryan. I missed you.” Mikey leans over and hugs Ryan softly. Ryan smiles just a little. 

Brendon sighs and both Mikey and Dallon make their way out of the room. Pete follows closely, trying in vain to reach Patrick on his mobile. Spencer grins. 

“It’s the gang, all back together again.” 

Jon nods and then puts his head in his hands. “God, I can’t believe it’s been nearly a decade since all four of us have been in the same room.” 

All four of them are silent for a moment before Brendon gestures down the hall and says, “I’ve still got Ryan’s guitar in there, alongside a drum kit, bass, and mic. What do you say, wanna play a few songs?” 

Spencer chuckles and grabs both Jon and Ryan by the arm. “Lead the way, Bren.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments. 
> 
> And yes, Ryan Seaman has magic, because of course he does.


End file.
